


Shadow Play

by Astrene



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Found Family, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Friendship, I've finally decided to write RPF, M/M, Minor Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Organized Crime, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Uneasy Allies, What am I doing with my life?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrene/pseuds/Astrene
Summary: When the government develops a sudden interest in Pogtopia's underworld and starts cracking down on illegal activities, an unusual alliance forms between the members of all prominent criminal organizations.In which Dream is a masked assassin, George, Sapnap, and BadBoyHalo work for the FBI, Skeppy owns a casino, Wilbur cooks drugs, Technoblade leads the mafia, Philza treats criminals and Tommy somehow gets himself involved in every illegal operation happening in the city.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	Shadow Play

The night is unusually quiet, almost as if it can predict something important is going to happen. Clouds fully cover the moon leaving the streets in complete darkness, all windows shut tight and all doors locked, nobody sensible wanting to be outside at this time in the most notorious part of the city.

The silence is only broken by the sound of light footsteps on the cold asphalt as a lone figure carefully slips into an alley between two buildings. The man is panting, sweat dripping down his face, hair plastered to his head beneath the green hood he wears. Keeping a close eye on his surroundings, he slowly turns around to check if his pursuers are still running after him. After a couple of stressful minutes listening and watching with no obvious signs of the chase, he lets out a deep breath and allows himself to relax.

He leans on the wall of the nearest building, looking up through the holes in his mask at the starry sky. Cold air washes over him and he shivers, circling his arms around his torso to preserve some warmth. The adrenaline is gradually draining out of his body making him aware how exhausted he actually is. His legs ache from running for so long and other injuries sustained during the fight are finally taking its toll on his body.

He needs to move as soon as possible, but for now he just wants to rest for a while and gather his thoughts. The latest encounter with the Hunters has left him much more shaken than he cares to admit. They were a little too close to catching him for comfort. It was obvious that they had learned a lot from previous skirmishes and improved their tactics, even becoming bold enough to set a trap and attempt to ambush him.

He escaped from it relatively unscathed, but the damage to his reputation has already been done. He got caught during a job. He always prides himself on being one step ahead of everyone else, but tonight he got brutally reminded that he isn't invincible. Now his perfect record is forever tarnished by a failed assassination, and he can't stop the pang of bitterness that accompanies this thought.

Reaching into one of the inside pockets to pull out a burner phone he wonders how this ordinary mission turned into such a mess. He knew the information he had received about the job had been a lot less detailed than usual, but he hadn't really noticed anything suspicious and in the end decided it had been enough to work with. Right now he deeply regrets that decision.

He dials a number, every digit memorized a long time ago. He lets it ring three times, hangs up, then calls again. The receiver is picked up immediately.

“Punz, I need a ride,” the masked man speaks in a hushed tone, looking around to make sure nobody is listening.

The person on the other end hesitates for a moment before replying, “Where are you?”

“Near the harbor, hiding in some alleyway. I'll meet you at the back of Wilbur's pub. And if you could bring me a change of clothes, that would be perfect.”

“Dude, I'm not your fucking driver,” Punz huffs in amusement.

“No, but you are my friend, and right now you are also becoming my alibi for this night,” Dream says, before hitting the disconnect button. He knows Punz will come get him. For now, he should be focusing on arriving at Wilbur's place undetected, hopefully avoiding running into the owner during his brief stay. He has the keys to the back entrance and he isn't in the mood to get questioned, which would inevitably happen if the musician saw him in this state.

As if his less than graceful getaway wasn't bad enough, during his escape he was too distracted trying to find a way to the nearest exit and wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings. He dodged most of the gunfire but didn't expect a bullet to graze his left cheek, and he certainly wasn't prepared for a crack to appear on his mask, resulting in a chunk of it falling off to the ground.

His heart is beating rapidly as he finally takes the time to fully process what that means. Someone might have seen his face. Only a small part of it, for merely half a second, before he hurriedly adjusted his hood to hide it, but there is no doubt that this moment of inattention is going to cost him a lot. He is known as someone unidentifiable, an assassin with no face, his signature white smiley mask always covering it. Even the slightest bit of information about his appearance can pose a significant problem in the future.

Apart from the possible discovery of his secret identity, he also needs to deal with a missing piece of his mask, lying somewhere on the ground at the crime scene. His first thought is to do what he usually does in cases like this, which is asking his information broker to bribe some of their contacts in the police to find any evidence and discreetly throw it away. But he rejects that idea almost immediately, remembering that false information from that same broker got him into this situation in the first place.

He resurfaces from his thoughts, deciding he will solve this issue when he safely gets home. After assessing the area again, he blends into the shadows, heading towards Wilbur's bar. He effortlessly navigates through the maze of crumbling buildings, more than familiar with this part of the city. The pub is located five blocks down, in a slightly richer neighborhood.

He arrives at the place shortly after, a single innocuously looking door located behind a dumpster. Loud voices and rumbling music reach his ears from the direction of the front of the bar. He absentmindedly touches his mask, checking if it still covers his face, and pulls out the keys making sure he doesn't let out any sound as he opens the door. His clothes are torn and stained with blood in some spots, but he doesn't plan on talking to any people until Punz shows up with a new set.

Of course, it seems like his luck has totally abandoned him tonight because the moment he steps into a small musty room, he is met with a pair of sparkling brown eyes staring right at him.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so please feel free to point out any grammatical errors, I'm still looking for a beta.


End file.
